


In The Clear

by Anonymous



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Dark Tony Stark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drug Use, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Sexual Bondage, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:55:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27272281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Tony had circled the route three times before Peter showed up. He didn’t have to drive closer to know it was him. He had weeks of practice recognizing Peter from a distance.Tony was well-aware this encounter could go several different ways. Fortunately, with the rag and bottle of chloroform tucked under his seat, and a taser in his pocket (he hoped it wouldn't come to that), Tony was prepared for anything.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 17
Kudos: 231
Collections: Anonymous





	1. 1

Fuck!

Peter was _sure_ he had gotten the right address. The number that had texted him for the decathlon meeting had told him to meet at 5 Sycamore Avenue at 7:30pm, and here he was. There was nobody else in sight, the street was dark, and Peter could feel a chill setting in his bones.

It wasn’t a regular chill, though, not like the ones he would get when he was cold, but rather like someone was watching him. He shook the thought off, and peered down at his phone screen again. Maybe he’d read the address wrong.

He began to walk slowly down the street, the barely-illuminated streetlights casting a tall shadow of himself across the sidewalk. He really was starting to get cold, but he knew his bus wasn’t gonna be around for a while, and he didn’t even have a coat. He glanced around one more time, spotting the headlights of a car in the near distance.

As the car got closer, the shine of the headlights got brighter and Peter couldn’t help holding a hand up to cover his eyes. He lowered it after a few seconds and squinted at the drivers side to see who was driving the car.

Peter faintly recognised the man as a regular at the local family-friendly bar that he and May sometimes went to for dinner when May couldn’t be bothered to cook. He’d never spoken to the man before, but the way his face broke out into a warm, friendly smile which reached his eyes put Peter at some sort of ease. He approached the car, just in time to see the window rolling down.

-

_As each second passed, Tony grew more and more impatient. What if he didn’t show up? What if he figured out they weren’t meeting? What if one of his little friends texted him?_

_No, Tony shook his head, reassuring himself. He planned every detail of tonight meticulously. Peter’s friend had a test to study for. He’d be too busy. His aunt was getting dinner with her friend. It would be three hours before anyone so much as questioned where the kid was. By then, they’d be a state away and Peter would safely be by Tony’s side. This was going to work._

_Tony had circled the route three times before Peter showed up. He didn’t have to drive closer to know it was him. He had weeks of practice recognizing Peter from a distance._

_Tony was well-aware this encounter could go several different ways. Fortunately, with the rag and bottle of chloroform tucked under his seat, and a taser in his pocket (he hoped it wouldn't come to that), Tony was prepared for anything._

_As he pulled up, his car’s headlights shone brightly on Peter. He was standing on the sidewalk, his hoodie barely doing anything to warm his skinny frame. As he blinked his honey brown eyes up at Tony, he looked like a lost puppy just waiting for someone to claim him._

_Now or never._

_Tony cleared his throat before rolling down the window to recite the rehearsed speech._

_“Hey, kid.” He offered the boy a warm smile._

_-_

Peter blinked owlishly a couple of times before speaking. “H-Hey sir!” He chirped back, bending down a little to peer through the open window.

Eye contact with Peter was unfamiliar and sent a rush down Tony's spine. It was definitely something he was looking forward to getting used to. So far, this was going well. Peter’s sweet little greeting already scratched off three of the worst case scenarios. 

“Wow,” Tony exclaimed with a teasing raise of his eyebrows, “you look completely lost.” His hand tightened around the bottle of chloroform. “Do you maybe need a ride? I can drop you off somewhere. I’m heading to pick up my daughter at her friend’s house, but she practically begged me not to rush, so,” Another smile. “I don’t mind, kid.” 

The daughter story was something he conjured up last night. He figured it would only make him seem more trustworthy. Tony glanced at Peter casually, as if he didn’t care if he rejected his offer.

Peter snorted at that. "Y-Yeah, I am lost actually. I was supposed to be going to decathlon, but... I think I got the wrong address." An embarrassed smile graced his features, and his eyes glanced up and down the street for signs of anyone else in the vicinity. The street was completely empty, but he wasn't that scared. Just a little cold. "Are you sure it's not a problem? I don't wanna make you late for picking up your daughter..." He rambled, the chill of the cold finally breaching his hoodie and setting in his very spine.

"If you're sure you don't mind, then that'd be really helpful, sir. I can just give you a street name for you to drop me off at, I don't mind walking the rest of the way back to my apartment." He said, taking a closer step to the car that had now pulled up to the sidewalk completely.

When Peter admitted to being lost, it took Tony a great deal of restraint not to grab his dainty little wrist, pull him in, and tell him he would never have to worry about that again. But, patience. Tony could not fuck this up right now. 

“Of course it’s not a problem.” Tony nodded encouragingly, trying not to show his excitement as the boy stepped even closer.

He was so close. So fucking close.

“Hop in, kid.”

Peter grinned, reaching for the door handle and pulling the car door open. He ducked his head as he slid into the car, closing the door behind him and shuffling in the seat to get comfortable. "Thanks a lot for this, sir! My bus was ages away and I would've probably died from hypothermia or somethin'." He laughed, turning to grab his seatbelt and click it into where it belonged. His bag was resting by his feet, and he glanced over to the man to see the encouraging smile still on his face.

 _Die from hypothermia, how cute._ Like Tony would ever let that happen. 

The click of his seatbelt was music to Tony’s ears as was his accompanied giggle. He really did pick the best boy. So sweet and trusting. 

“Anytime, kid. It’s really no problem.” Tony spewed pointlessly.

The original plan was to drug the kid immediately, get him unconscious to make things move a little easier, so they could get out of the state and settled in at the motel Tony had prepared for them, but, well, Tony hesitated. He wanted Peter to be awake. Or, at least, he wanted to give him the chance to be. Tony put the car in drive and pulled back onto the street, heading for the highway. "So, what's the address?"

"Oh, right, the address!" Peter remembered. "It's, uh, 67th Avenue. It's not too far, at least not by bus." He said, turning to look back out the window at the buildings going by. He rested his head against the glass, blinking slowly as the streetlights zipped past and flashed in front of his eyes.

After a few minutes, Peter was a little confused. He was pretty sure he'd never seen this part of town before, at least not at night, but he didn't want to say anything. Maybe the man was choosing a different route, one that would get him back to his apartment quicker?

He stayed quiet, his eyes glancing to the driver every so often.

Tony could sense Peter becoming more and more confused with every wide-eyed glance at Tony and out the car window. The poor thing had no idea what was happening. Tony tightened his grip on the steering wheel. There was no need to keep up the facade anymore. Peter was his now. He waited for Peter to say something, to react, so he could decide if it was necessary to use the chloroform.

The next few minutes determined everything.

The moment Peter began to panic was when he saw the man begin to turn onto the highway. The car was going at some speed, and when it made the turn, Peter froze.

He didn't know what to do. He didn't even know what to think.

He stayed exactly where he was, thinking, hoping, praying that this was some sort of bad dream and that he'd wake up in his apartment, with Aunt May nearby. His eyes went wide as his hand slowly lifted up and held onto the car door handle. He gave it a shake, but it was locked. "Wh-What's going on? T-Take me home!" He demanded, his fist still tightly gripping the car door handle.

“Sweetheart, I wouldn’t try that if I were you.” Tony tsked as Peter fidgeted with the door handle. “Even if you could get out, jumping out of a moving car at this speed could kill you.”

He looked adorable trying it, though.

“And by the way,” he added, “We _are_ going home.” Tony said with conviction, glancing over to take in the fear etched on the boy’s face.

"Don't... don't call me that!" Peter cried, pulling on the car door handle harder and harder. His actions became desperate, before he turned in his seat to face the man properly. "I meant _my_ home! W-With my Aunt, and my friends! I-I don't even know you!" He hissed, beginning to hit his fist against the window. He pressed the side of his body up against the car door too, desperate to get out. His breathing got quicker and quicker, his chest beginning to heave with breaths as he started to panic.

Goddamn it. The kid was having a full-blown panic attack. He was going to hurt himself if he kept up his incessant pounding on the window.

Without another choice, Tony took the nearest exit and pulled off of the road, onto an empty, dark lot. Before he could try to get away, Tony grabbed him and held his arms down, his strength resisting the boy’s thrashing.

“This is my fault.” Tony spoke lowly in his ear. “I was too greedy. I wanted you to stay awake.” He readjusted his grip on Peter and snatched the chloroform and rag from his seat. “Are you going to be a good boy for me or are you going to make me use this?” Tony asked, showing him the bottle.

Peter tried his very best to struggle in the man's grip when he pulled over, but his strength around Peter's wrists were too much for him to overcome.

He began to scream, harsh loud yells that reverberated around the car and in his ear, but he froze when the man pulled out a rag and bottle of chloroform. His eyes widened and his breath hitched, his mouth open from screaming. He shook his head, slowly at first and then frantically as he stared at the bottle.

He didn't dare say anything, didn't want to give the man a reason to chloroform him, or worse.

“Good boy.” Tony smiled, pleased at Peter’s abrupt stillness. If the boy was so scared of being drugged, he could definitely use that to manipulate him in the future.

Tony pulled away from Peter and retrieved the handcuffs from his jacket pocket. “You aren’t going to like this, baby, but I’m going to need you to put your hands behind your back.” To enforce himself, he added, “You can do this conscious or I can make you sleep and do it myself. Either way, it’s going to happen.”

Peter whimpered when the handcuffs came out. He could feel his own heartbeat pounding inside his head, and his mind was swimming with thoughts.

This was really happening. He was being kidnapped. This... this... this _psycho_ was taking him away, and was calling him _baby_.

The thought of the pet name made Peter want to vomit.

He squirmed in his seat, noting how his wrists were still being held together by the man's tight grasp. He thought for a moment, then slowly pulled his arms out of the man's grasp and put them behind his back. He bit his lip to prevent himself from crying, but in doing so bit down so hard that he drew blood. He couldn't even register the pain of it, not when he was half convinced all of this was just some fucked up nightmare.

“There we go.” Tony coaxed as he took Peter’s pale wrists in his hand. He snapped the handcuffs on, reveling in the contrast between the bulky metal against his beautiful boy’s milky skin.

“That’s it. Now let’s get you strapped in again.” Tony reached for his seatbelt that Peter had taken off in his panicked state and stretched it across Peter’s waist. He couldn’t help himself; Tony yanked it too tightly, watching in fascination as the band constricted around him, restraining Peter’s body to the seat.

What a preview for the things he was going to do to him…but no, not now.

Peter squeaked as the seatbelt was yanked across his chest, constricting his breathing for just a second. He tilted his head back, exposing the pale column of his throat as he gasped for breath, and a shudder came from his lips. When he looked back down, his wrists were tightly cuffed, and he was in despair at how it looked. It looked... wrong, like he was being arrested for something, some crime he didn't do.

With a sigh, Tony let go of the taut seatbelt, allowing it to go back to its regular loose form. His eyes darted up to Peter’s wide ones, but what really caught his attention was the bright red drop of blood on his lip, so harsh against the natural pink color of his lips.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Tony muttered, reaching out, against Peter’s weak squirms, to swipe his thumb across his bottom lip.

At the sound of the man's voice, he looked back up, just in time to see his hand stretch out towards his face. Peter immediately shuffled back, squirming until he hit the car door. "G-G-Get off me!" He cried, even when the thumb only swiped across his lip and pulled away again, this time the pad of skin a scarlet color from the blood on his lip.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Tony said against his struggles, although he was fairly certain it didn’t do anything to ease Peter’s mind.

Peter was sure that the man was lying. He was gonna hurt him, just not right now.

Tony fought the urge to pull the boy closer to him. He had to stick to the plan. They had to get back on the road. 

Peter was fine; he was subdued. There was no way for him to go anywhere. He couldn’t take his seatbelt off without Tony noticing, let alone be able to reach it with his hands restricted without some obvious fidgeting.

So, Tony pulled back on the street and turned back onto the highway. Just a few hours and they’d be at the motel.

When the man started the car again and pulled back onto the street to go back to the highway, Peter turned to look out the window, his fists clenching and unclenching behind his back. He turned his head away from the man, so that he couldn't see the tears forming at the corners of Peter's eyes.

Wherever they were going, it was too far for Peter to walk back by himself, even now. He was going to have to find a way back home, but for some reason something told him that that wouldn't be possible. He shook the thought out of his mind. 

He stayed quiet for the car journey, looking out of the window and not daring to look in the man's direction.

When they got to the motel, Tony pulled in the parking spot right outside of their room. He turned the ignition off before turning to face the kid.

“Peter.” He started, swiftly grabbing the black sweatshirt from the backseat. “I’m going to help you put on this hoodie and we’re going to go inside. There’s food waiting for you and if you’re good, I’ll let you take a shower.” 

The kid must have been hungry. It had easily been six or seven hours since his last meal.

Peter froze when the man said his name. He hadn't said it himself, so how would his kidnapper have known it?

"Y-You... How do you know my name?"

He ignored the order to put the hoodie on, instead looking at the man with wide, fearful eyes. His lips parted and he was about to say something else, but he shut up when he heard about the food. He was hungry, and it'd been a few hours since the man had first... taken him off the street. However, the possibility of a shower had Peter feeling sick. He didn't want his kidnapper to see him naked. Peter would rather die.

He didn't say anything else, the look of fear still painfully clear on his face.

Tony couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him when Peter asked how he knew is name. 

“Baby, I know everything about you.” He emphasized. “I know the route you take to school every morning. I know the deli shop you go to every Tuesday. I know your best friends’ names, Ned and Michelle, and that you like to sing to the album—what is it called? Oh that’s right--Joanne in your room at night. Hell, I know your drink order at Starbucks is a caramel macchiato.”

Peter couldn't breathe. As the man started listing off the facts about him, his head began spinning and he thought he was going to vomit. His eyes got wider and wider and wider, and Peter had the sudden fear that he was going to faint.

"Y-You're insane. You're a ps-psycho, you're... you're..." He trailed off, but immediately turned and began trying to kick at the door with the heel of his foot. He began yelling too, screaming for help as loud as he could even though the windows were rolled up. He didn't care, he was desperate for someone to see the movement inside the car. His hands also began fumbling, desperate to get out of the handcuffs he had been put in.

The kid had to shut up. Right. Fucking. Now.

Sure, Tony rented the majority of the other rooms, but not all of them.

“Fine!” Tony snapped, dipping the rag in chloroform. “If you want to be a brat, then you are going to get punished for it.” He unbuckled Peter’s seatbelt and grabbed his handcuffs before pulling him so his back pressed against Tony. The boy was so scrawny and weak compared to him. There was no way he could match Tony’s force.

“I don’t want to do this, baby, but you’re making me.” He whispered as he held the rag over Peter’s face.

Peter’s screams only got more desperate as he was manhandled out of his seat and into the man’s arms. He thrashed in his grip, turning this way and that, but it was no use. His kidnapper was holding him down to the seat and with every inhale, Peter found himself becoming more and more drowsy.

His movements slowed down until they stopped completely, and with one last call out for his Aunt May, Peter passed out completely in the man’s arms. His head lolled forward, his chin close to where his neck meets his collarbone, and his eyes fluttered shut.

Tony sighed as Peter became complacent in his arms. He put the chloroform away and took in Peter.

Fuck, he looked so sweet and innocent like this, dark eyelashes striking against his pretty cheekbones. Tony wrapped his arms around him and nuzzled his head into the crook of his neck, breathing him in deeply.

He allowed himself a couple minutes of this, just being close to the boy before taking the hoodie and pulling it over his body to hide the handcuffs. He checked the surroundings thoroughly, making sure no one was around, before picking the kid up and taking him inside.

Tony had already prepared everything, of course. No windows in the bathroom, and he took out anything Peter could use to get away or potentially attack Tony.

Now, all he had to do was wait.

Tony laid Peter down on his stomach first, so he could take the cuff off one of his wrists before flipping him over. With the other cuff, he clicked it around the bedpost. It wasn't the iron material he had at the safe house, but it would hold Peter.

What was he forgetting? What was he forgetting? Oh, of course!

Tony took Peter's phone from his pocket and ran it under the water in the sink. To be safe, he smashed it on the floor after, and when he felt comfortable enough, he sat back on the bed and checked the news. Nothing so far about Peter being missing. He wondered if the kid's aunt had even come home yet. Tony glanced at Peter's sleeping body.

They were so close to being in the clear.


	2. 2

Peter woke up about 45 minutes later. 

It was a slow process, his eyelids feeling like heavy weights as he struggled to open his eyes. In fact, his entire body felt heavy, like he was being tied down to whatever he was lying on. When his eyes were properly open, he looked down and was relieved to find that he wasn’t tied down. 

Before he got a sense of his surroundings, Peter had a fleeting thought that maybe he’d just had a bad dream, that the man with the goatee and the dark hair wasn’t actually evil, and that he was just in his own apartment, having overslept again after taking a nap. However, when he looked over to his right and saw his cuffed wrist attached to the bedpost, that woke him up quickly. He sat as upright as he could, tugging once, then again on the handcuffs. 

There was no give. This wasn’t a dream. 

He wasn’t even aware that the man was in the room, he was too busy trying to get free.

"You sure you want to try that again?" Tony asked, watching Peter uselessly tugging at the bedpost. "I don't think it's fun being drugged a second time. I mean, the first is bad enough, don't you think, kid?" Tony approached him slowly until he was at the edge of the bed. 

"Are you hungry now? If you're good, you can eat. Tell me, Peter, are you going to be nice or are you going to try to get away again?"

Peter flinched when he heard the man’s voice. He turned to see him slowly approaching the bed, and Peter couldn’t help shuffling up the mattress until his back was pressed against the headboard. His eyes were wide, like a deer caught in headlights, and his entire body was trembling. 

He soon realised that he was hungry, but he didn’t want to eat. What if the man poisoned him? Peter was about to remain silent, but at that exact moment, his stomach growled with hunger. He cringed at the sound, and decided that staying silent would be useless. 

“I-I’ll be good...” he mumbled, his eyes dropping to the bed and not looking the man in the face.

Tony fetched the bowl of ravioli from the microwave. He got it as takeout from a restaurant he followed Peter to. He ordered the same meal last week, so he must have liked it. Tony set down a plastic fork in the bowl and presented it to Peter on the bed. He gave him a moment of privacy to find him a water bottle, and then tossed it next to him.

Peter looked at that bowl warily, but eventually picked up the fork and took a hesitant first bite of the pasta. He realised that it was very similar, if not the same, to some ravioli he had had the previous week when he and Aunt May had gone to celebrate Peter passing his theory driving test. It soothed him a little bit, so he continued eating. He couldn’t even pick out the taste of poison (not that he knew what poison tasted like), so he gladly kept eating.

After he had finished the bowl, he picked up the water bottle and unscrewed it with his left hand clumsily, before gulping down a third of it. He closed it again and set it down on the bed, before looking at the man again. “Th-Thank you.” He said timidly. He didn’t want to get drugged again, so he had to be polite. A thought occurred to him, and he decided to roll with it. “Y-You... You never told me your name.” He said, tilting his head to one side.

Maybe if he showed a little bit of polite interest in the man, it would be enough to gain sympathy and have the man uncuff him from the bed.

It was worth a shot.

Tony tried not to be too obvious watching Peter eat. He couldn’t help it; it gave him an odd sense of satisfaction knowing that he was taking care of him. Peter’s life depended on Tony now. He controlled everything regarding Peter. Not that he ever would, but Tony could starve him if he wanted to. That kind of power over someone else was a hard concept to grasp, but it made Tony feel a sort of thrill.

Suddenly, Peter stuttered out a “thank you”, causing Tony to beam. It was nervously delivered, sure, but it was progress. Much better than the thrashing around earlier. “Of course, baby.” He replied back. He didn’t expect Peter to respond to that, so when he asked for his name with a cute tilt of his head, Tony almost lost it.

Such a good boy. 

“My name is Tony. Tony Stark.” He said amicably. He didn’t mind giving away his last name. It’s not like Peter was ever going to be able to tell anyone. Also, maybe a part of him wanted to give Peter an honest piece of himself. Maybe if he got to know Tony, it would make him feel like the stakes were more even, especially because he became so upset in the car when Tony told him just how much he knew about Peter.

Peter nodded slowly, trying his best to feign interest in the man in front of him. He found, however, that he couldn’t look at... Mr. Stark for too long. The man’s gaze was piercing, almost terrifying despite the apparently warm smile on his face. “M-Mr. Stark? Do you think you could... uncuff me from this bed? I promise I won’t run, it’s just that it’s really tight and painful on my wrists.” He asked, pulling his best puppy-dog-eyes expression in the hopes that it would help his cause. He didn't want to call him by his first name, the thought of it was like they were friends or something, and Peter didn't want that. 

If Mr. Stark uncuffed him from the bed, Peter could wait until the man fell asleep that night, and then use the time to figure a way out of the motel room. He'd have to hitchhike his way back to Queens, but at this point he'd take what he could get.

Uncuff him? Like that was going to happen. “Sweetheart,” Tony sighed sympathetically, “you know I can’t do that.” He literally just got him. There was no way he was going to risk Peter escaping, no matter how cute he looked begging. If he earned it, he could run around as much as he’d like at the safe house. “I know the motel situation isn’t ideal, but it’s only for a couple more nights. Then, we’ll be home, and things will be different.”

"Y-You can!" Peter insisted, ignoring the pet name that the man kept calling him. He didn't care how desperate he sounded, but he needed to get the handcuffs off of him, he needed to go home. "J-Just for a little while? Or when I'm asleep? It... It won't be comfortable sleeping with it around my wrist. Please, sir." He begged, fidgeting on the bed a little as he spoke.

He didn't like how his kidnapper said they were "going home". For Peter, this wasn't home. It never would be, and there was no way in hell this lunatic was changing that.

“Peter…” Tony frowned as the boy fucking begged to have the handcuffs taken off of him. He looked down at his little wrist to see that, yes, it was a bit red from having them on for so long. It wouldn’t be terrible, would it? He would be supervising him the whole time.

“You have to have them on while you sleep, but I can take them off for just a little while.” Tony said assertively. He slipped his hand into his pocket and fished around for the key. When he found it, he took Peter’s wrist in his hand and unclicked the handcuff.

Peter bit back the victorious smile that was threatening to spread across his face. This was the first step done.

He didn't complain when the man took hold of his wrist, watching the key turn in the cuff to release him. He gently pulled his hand away, cradling his wrist in his other hand and rubbing the pad of his thumb against the red marks where the metal had dug into his skin. "Th-Thanks." He mumbled, a shy smile on his face. He didn't really feel like smiling, but maybe it would convince the man that he was going to be good. He just had to wait for Mr. Stark to go into the bathroom, or maybe take a nap, and then he'd try and unlock the door.

“You’re welcome.” Tony glanced at the bathroom door contemplatively. “I guess now would be a good time for you to take a shower. You usually shower before bed, anyway.” Tony stood up and headed for the bathroom to turn the faucet on. He twisted the knobs and cold water started pouring out immediately.

Tony spent a lot of time debating Peter’s privacy in the bathroom. As much as he’d love to be in there with him, running a soapy washcloth all over his soft skin, he ultimately decided it would freak the kid out too much. So, he’d allow him this.

Peter didn't dare ask how the man knew that he showered before bed. He didn't even want to think about it, think about the man watching him while he showered, Peter completely unaware as to what was going on. Instead, he shuddered and followed the man to the bathroom, leaning against the door-frame and peeking into the bathroom to watch the man turn on the shower.

A sinking feeling spread in his stomach when he realised that there were no windows in the bathroom, so there was no way of getting out that way. If he was going to escape, it would have to be through the front door.

He stood by patiently as the man set the temperature of the shower, and then waited again for him to leave. As the door swung shut, Peter debated locking it, but decided against it. He didn't want to die in here. He glanced over at the door every so often as he stripped down and got into the shower. The water wasn't exactly warm, but it would do.

Peter’s showers were usually around twenty minutes long, so Tony felt okay stepping out of the motel room for a few minutes.

After closing the door behind him, he walked to his car and leaned against the hood. On his phone, he scanned through updates regarding Peter. The movement from the front door of Peter’s apartment (Tony set a bug triggering it weeks ago) had gone off several times in the last hour. So, not only had May come home, but she had company. So, the police had been called.

Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew it was inevitable, but he just wished it had taken May a bit longer. He’d feel better when they reached a different state tomorrow, one farther away.

Peter spent a minute standing under the spray of the water, and he finally let go and began to cry.

They started as small hiccups that bubbled in his chest and spilled from his lips, but under the sound of the rushing water he felt safe to properly cry. He sobbed, his entire body shaking as he did so, and he had to press his body to the adjoining wall so that he didn't collapse. He eventually regained control of himself, and turned the shower water off, which left him shivering in the bathroom. He stepped out of the shower and dried himself off with a towel, before quickly getting changed back into his clothes. Peter then cracked the bathroom door open and peered out into the motel room to find that his kidnapper wasn't there.

Holy shit. Peter could run, and he could do it right now.

He dared to tiptoe out and across the room, before sidling up to the front door. He took a few deep breaths. He was gonna wrench the door open, and run. He mentally prepared himself, before yanking the door open.

Tony was just about to head inside when the door swung open. Peter stood there, wet hair dripping onto his flannel shirt, glossy eyes blown wide and staring at him like a deer in headlights. The realization hit Tony like a truck.

The kid was going to run. He was trying to get away.

Thankfully, seeing Tony so close must have been enough to make him freeze in his tracks. Tony took the opportunity gladly and stepped forward so he blocked Peter’s exit.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Tony asked darkly.

 _Fuck. Shit. No._ Peter's legs began to shake, and his grip on the door handle tightened. "N-No... Nowhere! Not... not going anywhere...!" he rambled, taking a step back for every step that Mr. Stark took forward.

He stumbled backwards into the room until the back of his heels hit the bed that he had been previously laid on. It surprised him enough for him to fall backwards onto the mattress, and he could only scramble across the bedsheets as the man stalked towards him. Peter's eyes were wide, fearfully wide, and his lips were parted as he gasped for breaths. He gulped, noticing how dark the man's eyes were turning.

Tony took two seconds to open the dresser and grab the rope before climbing on the mattress and pinning Peter down.

Peter’s reaction was immediate, his hands coming up to try and shove the man off of him. He couldn’t even scream, all his energy was put into shoving the man as hard as he could. He didn’t stand a chance though, and when Mr. Stark straddled his legs he began to cry again amongst his struggles. He cried out with how rough the rope was against his skin, and how Mr. Stark was pulling his limbs this way and that to secure them to the bedposts.

The kid struggled against him, but Tony wasn’t having it. He straddled him, cursing loudly, immobilizing his legs with one of his own before yanking one of his hands up and tying a knot around his wrist. When he was satisfied with how tight it was, he tied it to the bedpost. After he finished that one, Tony moved on to the other wrist. He knew he was being too rough, but he didn’t care. Tying his ankles wasn’t necessary, but Tony did it anyway. When he was done and Peter was completely restrained, he peered down at the kid’s shaky, terrified expression.

Tony didn’t even try to resist the urge to kiss him. He leaned down and brushed his lips against Peter’s. Fuck. He pulled back after a couple seconds, but one look down at his beautiful Adonis had Tony kissing him again, this time slipping his tongue into Peter’s mouth. It was like he was daring Peter to bite him, to scream, to try anything that would put him in a worse position than he was already in.

Peter had never been kissed before, never even tried to do that with anyone, and the feeling of the kidnapper’s mouth on his was so disgusting Peter genuinely had to hold down his own vomit. It felt like something was being taken from him, stolen without his permission, and Peter wanted to scream. He shook his head frantically, but it was no use as the man’s tongue explored his mouth. He didn’t kiss back, but Mr. Stark seemed happy to take his time with the boy.

It was disgusting, and Peter hadn’t hated him any more than he did right now. But, in a weird way, he also hated himself. If he hadn’t been so stupid as to try and escape so blatantly, this wouldn’t have happened.

After limiting himself to just a couple minutes of making out with Peter, Tony moved to his neck. As he planted wet kisses down the pale column of his throat, he wondered if anyone had done this to him before. The kid was still tense under his touch, but he didn’t have to be. Tony would find out what the boy liked and then he’d just have to make him listen to his body. Once he understood how good Tony could make him feel, maybe he would be more reluctant to try to leave him.

As soon as the man moved away from his mouth, Peter couldn’t help but gasp for breath. For a split second, he thought it was over, that Mr. Stark was going to get off him, but then he moved further down. Peter immediately began to cry again, his body squirming as much as it could against the ties around his wrists and ankles, and he began to beg for the man to stop. “N-No, no please, don’t! Don’t, you c-can’t, it’s... it’s not right, please please please, no!” He babbled, his stomach turning as he felt the wet kisses being planted against the side of his neck.

Tony sucked at the soft skin with his tongue, slowly, patiently. He couldn’t wait to see the litter of hickeys Peter would inevitably have tomorrow. They were going to be beautiful, a constellation of marks that meant just how much he belonged to Tony.

The thought of the man’s saliva on his skin was revolting, but Peter was unable to do anything to stop it. “Stop, stop, stop, please... please, no, I beg you, don’t...!” He thrashed in the bonds holding him down, desperate to get free and away before the man did anything worse. He didn’t even want to think about what “worse” was in this situation.

Kissing Peter’s neck was quickly becoming Tony’s new favorite thing. His little pleads for him to stop only spurred Tony on further, trying to elicit some type of moan from the boy denoting that he was enjoying it.

He would have kept continuing too, but it was when he felt himself start to harden in his pants that Tony decided to get off of the boy. He had his fun. He didn’t want to go too far. _Not yet._

Peter scrunched his face up, his eyes squeezing shut as Mr. Stark placed the last few kisses on his skin. He could feel something hard pressing against him, but he refused to acknowledge it, simply wanting the whole ordeal to end.

“You’re going to learn to like it, sweetheart.” Tony whispered in his ear. “I can make you feel so good if you would just give in.” He sighed and gave Peter one last kiss before he climbed off of him. With a glance at his phone, he realized how late it was. “We need to get some sleep.” Tony clicked off the light. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

Tears started brimming in Peter's eyes once more when the man finally kissed him, but he couldn’t help the sigh of relief when he moved away. He had no idea how he was gonna sleep tied up like this, but with his eyes already shut he figured he would at least try.

The concept of exhaustion the next day was the only thing convincing him to sleep. If he wasn’t already tired, Peter would have stayed up the entire night to make sure that his kidnapper didn’t do anything... weird to him.

Eventually, though, Peter found himself falling into an uneasy sleep, dreading the next day.


	3. 3

The next morning, when Tony woke up, he watched Peter sleeping for a few minutes. He loved how beautiful his baby boy looked when his eyes were closed and his face was relaxed. He checked his restraints quietly, careful not to wake Peter up. They were tight--probably too tight. Definitely tighter than the handcuffs Peter was complaining about were hurting yesterday.

Tony walked back to the dresser and took out the duct tape. He didn’t want to cover his pretty pink lips with the ugly gray color, but he couldn’t risk Peter screaming when he left. Carefully, he approached Peter and petted through his hair.

“Morning, baby.”

Peter awoke slowly, blinking away the sleep dust from his eyes. He lifted his hand to wipe them clean and— oh. Right. The ropes.

So this wasn’t a dream.

Peter blinked confusedly, looking around to see Mr. Stark sitting on the side of his bed, with his hand in Peter’s hair. Peter flinched, doing his best to squirm away from the man. “D-Don’t... Please don’t touch me.” He was going to say “don’t touch me”, but figured that if he wasn’t polite, Mr. Stark wouldn’t be happy with him. Worse, he might try and hurt Peter.

He craned his neck and saw that his legs were still tied down too, but then turned and saw the duct tape in the man’s hand. That was new. “Wh-What’s that for? What’re you gonna... what’re you gonna do with that?” He asked cautiously, his breathing becoming more panicked.

Tony reluctantly pulled his hand away from Peter’s hair. “I have to go out for a little while before we go.” Tony started. “Run a few errands.”

He tried to be as vague as possible. They were little details Peter shouldn’t trouble himself with. Gas for the car, clothes and supplies for Peter, and checking the news for what they were doing. He didn’t want Peter to see that. It would just make him miss his old home.

“I can put that rag over your face again, but I don’t think you’d want to be unconscious again.” Tony didn’t miss his eyes widen at the mention of the chloroform. “So, I’m putting this on you to make sure you don’t scream while I’m gone. Are you going to be good for me and let me put it on you without a fight?”

Psh, like Peter could fight. Every one of his limbs was completely tied up. The best he could probably do was wriggle around.

_Errands? What the hell would the man be doing that counted as errands?_

Peter didn’t think about it too much, not when his gaze was focussed on the duct tape in the man’s hands. “I promise I won’t scream! I really, really promise, sir, please, don’t use the tape. I’ll be quiet.” He said, though he knew it would be of little use after he was caught trying to escape the previous night. “I’ll be good, I just d-don’t want the chloroform.” He said, his eyes warily shifting from the tape over to where the bottle of chloroform rested on the night stand. They both knew Peter wouldn’t be able to fight, what with his limbs being tied down and also being tired from the events of last night.

He had a feeling he’d be tired for a long while.

“Oh, of course not, baby boy.” Tony said softly, brushing his hair away from his face. “You don’t have to have the chloroform.” He promised, gazing into Peter’s lovely brown eyes. “I can’t trust you since last night, though.” Tony broke off a large strip of duct tape.

“I have to put this on you. If you someone heard you screaming, I’d never see you again. I can’t risk losing you, sweetheart. Not when I’ve just gotten you.”

Peter shook his head again, becoming more frantic by the second. "N-No, please, please, please." His eyes were wide and fearful, and his blinking became fast as he tried to blink the tears out of his eyes. There was no use arguing though, so he had no choice but to close his mouth and let the man put the duct tape across his mouth. He was already afraid of the pain that would come with tearing the duct tape off when Mr. Stark got back, but for the moment he was still puzzled as to what the man would do that would count as "errands".

When he was pleased enough with the boy’s immobility and lack of speech, Tony kissed his forehead and walked out the front door, being sure to lock it behind him. The thought that no-one was coming in or getting out relieved Tony immensely, and he felt a little better once he got in his car. 

Watching Mr. Stark leave the motel apartment was relieving and terrifying in equal measures. While he was glad that the man was gone and that he didn't have to worry about being... touched like he was last night, Peter became quickly afraid of being alone by himself. After all, being alone in an unfamiliar setting was how he got into this trouble in the first place.

As time went by, his thoughts drifted back to his Aunt, to his friends, to his school. It had only been a day or so, Peter couldn't even remember, but he missed them so, so much. Even that asshole Flash.

He settled back against the mattress, and counted backwards from 1000. His Aunt had told him that it was a way of getting your mind to switch off, and apparently it helped her fall asleep, so he tried it out.

Getting gas and Peter’s clothes were easy enough; Tony paid in cash, obviously. The news was what was troubling to him.

He pulled back in his parking spot in front of the motel to watch it. Online, it mentioned the details of Peter leaving for Decathlon and never coming home. There was already a picture of him they posted, and suddenly, Tony was overcome with anxiety. He was careful and he did everything right so far, but they needed to go. They needed to get farther away, where Tony didn’t have to worry about Peter being seen.

Disgruntled, Tony got out of his car and walked up to the motel room’s door. When he stepped inside, he went immediately up to Peter, who was still perfectly tied up on the bed. With a knife, he cut the ropes off of Peter’s legs. “We’re going. Now.”

Eventually when Mr. Stark came back, Peter jumped at the door suddenly opening. The knife made pure fear shoot up Peter's spine, and he held perfectly still as Mr. Stark cut him free. He stayed quiet, and let the man guide him to the car.

Tony opened the passenger door and guided the kid in. When he was safely in the car, Tony opened his mouth to speak to him. “Peter, I swear to God, I do not have the time or patience for you to try anything right now. Stay in the fucking car or I won’t let you wake up until tomorrow. No screaming or banging on the car door.” Tony flipped the child lock before closing the door.

Peter clambered into the car, and barely had time to put the seatbelt on before his kidnapper was turning to face him. At his harsh words, Peter's face paled, and he quickly nodded to show he understood. The duct tape was still over his mouth, so it wasn't like he could say anything, but he made a quick noise of affirmation along with his nodding. He simply sat there, numb and shocked, as Mr. Stark disappeared for a second to get his stuff out of the motel room.

Peter was mildly shaking when the man reappeared, and he didn't even look in his direction when Mr. Stark got into the car and slammed the car door shut.

Tony gave a quick survey of potential witnesses outside—fortunately, no one was around—before he turned to Peter. “Come here.” Tony didn’t waste any time wrapping a hand around Peter’s neck so he could pull him closer. “We’ve got to take this off. Try your best not to scream.” With a quick movement of his hand, he pulled the duct tape off of Peter’s face.

It all happened so fast that Peter barely had time to react before the duct tape was being ripped off of his face. He let out a cry of pain when it happened, pulling back once it was off and slapping his hand over his mouth. A muffled "Fuck!" could be heard as he reeled from the pain, and when he took his hand away there was a clear red mark around his lips. It would fade with time, but the pain was still reverberating around Peter's head.

"F-Fuck, that really hurt... Shit..." Peter panted heavily, but otherwise remained quiet.

“You did so well, baby.” Tony praised, pulling him in once again to kiss the side of his head. It was with his arm around Peter’s small frame that he felt him shivering like a little Chihuahua. “Oh, sweetheart, I know. I know. I’m sorry.” He cupped Peter’s face in his hand, forcing him into tilting his chin so he was looking at him. “Did I scare you? Look at you, you’re shaking like a leaf.”

Peter whimpered, not because he was scared, but because of how close Mr. Stark was to him. He didn't like how Mr. Stark touched him like they'd known each other all their lives, it freaked Peter out, but to the older man it seemed completely normal.

He didn't dare say anything, didn't want to give the man anything. He stayed quiet, his eyes darting all over the place and looking out of the windows. He wanted, _needed_ someone to come walking around the corner so that Peter could get their attention, but nobody ever came. "W-Why do we have to go?" He asked.

If they were driving even further, Peter had a lower chance of ever getting back to Queens. He couldn't let that happen.

“Because I want to be with you and it’s not safe here.” Tony answered, pleased that Peter hadn’t pulled away from his touch. “We’re going somewhere where you don’t have to be drugged or duct-taped when I have to leave. You’ll have room to run around and it’ll be better. So much better than these dirty motels. You’ll see.” Tony explained and turned the ignition of the car, one hand on the wheel, the other wrapped around Peter’s shoulders. They pulled away from the motel and drove for a little while before getting back on the highway.

"There's room to run around back in Queens..." Peter grumbled to himself quietly, before slipping out of the man's grip around his shoulders and turning to look out the window.

The highway looked a lot different during the day, and as the cars sped by he wondered whether his Aunt or his friends knew that he was gone. They had to have noticed by now... right? Peter didn't have much family, and the man was right when saying his only two friends were Ned and MJ, but surely they would've noticed he wasn't in the apartment, or that he didn't show up to the decathlon meeting.

He sighed. He was gonna get back home. He just had to keep reminding himself of it.

When Peter slipped out of his grasp, Tony frowned, but he didn’t try to pull him back. Now, they were an hour out, with eight more hours to go until they reached Sterling, Illinois. One more night in motel and then they could drive the next day and make it all the way to South Dakota. He knew Peter wasn’t going to like going that far.

They still had to stop for food, and Tony wasn’t sure he trusted Peter enough for a drive-through. Tony might have to drug him again. He glanced at the boy, who was staring numbly out the car window.

“Baby.” Tony said. “It’s going to be a long drive. Why don’t you talk to me?”

Peter had his chin resting on his hand as he gazed out of the window. His eyes followed every car that zipped past, and he desperately wished he was in every single one on the other side of the highway, driving back to New York.

At the sound of the man's voice, he flinched and looked over at him. "What... what do I have to say? You already know everything about me. You could probably tell me my favorite color, or the last time I had a haircut. I don't have anything to say to you." He huffed, before turning back around and looking out of the window.

He did have a question for the man, but at the moment he was too annoyed to ask it.

“Peter, your bratty mouth might get you in trouble if you’re not careful.” Tony warned him, a spark of annoyance fueling with every ornery word coming from his boy’s mouth. He was trying to be patient and understanding, but a few more sassy remarks from Peter might just make him pull over and teach him a lesson. He let out a long exhale, trying to regain his composure. 

“I don’t know your favorite color.”

Peter gritted his teeth, but ultimately gave up the fight. He didn't want the man to go crazy and crash the car, so he kept his mouth shut for a while. When he was sure that Mr. Stark had calmed down, he spoke again. "It's red. Or... or maybe blue. I'm not sure." He didn't bother going any further than that, his gaze still fixed to the environment outside the car. 

After a few more minutes of silence, he spoke once more. "Why me?" He asked. He didn't understand it, that someone would ever want to steal somebody else away like this.

“Baby, it’s been you since the first day I saw you in that restaurant.”

Tony remembered it fucking perfectly. It was two months ago. He was sitting at the bar, drinking a beer and laughing with the bartender, when Peter came in with his aunt.

“You just looked so smart and innocent and sweet. You looked like you needed someone to come save you, take you away from everything. Like you needed someone to take care of you.” Tony recalled. “How could I just ignore that instinct?” He shook his head emphatically. “I couldn’t. I can’t.” He corrected. “And everything I learned about you just made me need you more." He glanced at Peter. "And I know you feel like you don't need me right now, but trust me, baby boy, you will. You're going to beg for me to take care of you."

Peter couldn't even remember which restaurant it was, but the look on Mr. Stark's face told him that the man had spent every second since that day memorizing the first time they had been in the same space.

It made Peter feel sick.

As Mr. Stark kept talking, kept describing how Peter looked to him, the boy had the very sudden, very real urge of unbuckling his seatbelt and throwing himself onto the highway. Those last few sentences were enough for him to do it, but he could tell Mr. Stark was watching him, so Peter stayed exactly where he was. Maybe he was innocent, maybe he was sweet, but it was ruined now by what the man was doing to him, what he was telling him.

Peter didn't say a single word after that, his gaze down at his hands in his lap as his brain rattled around the words that Mr. Stark had told him.

Tony sighed when Peter seemed to turn off emotionally. He knew what he told him sounded weird, but it was only because he didn’t understand.

He couldn’t understand. Not yet. It was too soon. But he would.

Hours later, they were nearing the motel. Tony had to get he and his baby boy some food, but he had to drug him first. “Sorry, sweetheart.” Tony said as he pulled over, reaching for the chloroform on his side of the car. “I promise you won’t be out too long.”

Peter began to panic when Mr. Stark held up the chloroform and rag. "No, no, please, you don't need to use that! I promise I'll be good, I haven't done anything today, please!" He begged. He hated the chloroform, how it made him feel sick when he woke up and how he never knew how long he would be under its' control for. He squirmed backwards in his seat so that his back was pressed against the car door, determined to put some distance between himself and the rag.

“Baby, we have to go through a drive through.” Tony explained carefully. “If you said anything, if you even gave someone a look, they could call the police. But, if you don’t want the chloroform,” he began, an idea forming in his mind, remembering the Xanax he had, “I could give you something else. Something that will just make you relaxed. Would you rather have that?”

"Relaxed?" Peter said, a small look of confusion setting on his face. "Y-Yeah, that's... that's alright." He said nervously.

 _Anything other than the chloroform_ , he thought to himself.

"What is it?" He asked, looking around the car for signs of anything out of the ordinary. He didn't really like the idea of Mr. Stark giving him something that made him "relaxed", but it was either that or being completely unconscious.

Besides, if he was awake, maybe he could try and get the attention of someone working at the drive through that they were apparently going to.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Relaxed.” Tony nodded in encouragement as he took out the bottle from his compartment. He fished out the Xanax and watched carefully as he took the small pill. He made him open his mouth to show that he’d taken it.

The effects of Xanax were notoriously fast. He tried not to show his excitement. With that dose in Peter’s little body, the pill would make him sleepy and docile, like a little kitten.

Tony gave him a reassuring smile before heading back on the highway, giving the pill some time to settle in.

Peter took the pill, and opened his mouth obediently to show he had swallowed it down. He sat back in the car seat and turned his attention back to the road as Mr. Stark pulled back onto the highway.

The pill had almost immediate effect, and it felt like everything was slowing down. His blinking became more prolonged, and he felt like he could take a nap right where he sat. He stayed awake, though, and stared out of the window dazedly. He didn't even have the coordination to speak, though the man said that he didn't want Peter talking when they went through the drive through, so Peter thought it was best just to shut up entirely for now. His vision got a little blurry, but he didn't particularly care.

One look at Peter and Tony could tell he was fucking out of it. His pupils were wider than usual and laced with this distant, glossy look.

They pulled into a fast food restaurant and Tony ordered them a couple of salads with grilled chicken. He wished he could cook Peter a nice meal, but for now, this was the best of what they could do. Peter stayed quiet while he was ordering.

When Tony stopped outside the window to pay, he couldn’t help the slight tension in his shoulders. The woman he handed his cash to was elderly and gave them a big smile. "Good evening, sir." She said, handing him the bag of food. Tony smiled amicably, trying his best to hide his distress.

Peter was left staring at his hands when Mr. Stark pulled into the drive-thru. He stayed quiet and looked downwards while the man ordered, and was filled with the overwhelming urge to sleep when he pulled up to the pay window. He rested his head against the window, letting his eyes flutter shut and his breathing become more steady as he waited for the drugs to wear off.

He wasn’t even paying attention to whatever conversation his kidnapper was having with the cashier, his entire head throbbing and his mind rattling around inside his head. He didn’t feel like eating, either, not when he was drugged up like this, but if he didn’t eat he would probably starve to death. 

Mr. Stark would probably let that happen.

Tony pulled over as soon as they left the restaurant. He couldn’t help himself. “Oh, baby, you did so, so good.” He said, taking his pliant body in his arms as Tony hugged him. “God, I love you like this.” Tony told him, stroking his arm up and down. So sweet and lax.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t use Xanax as much as he may have wanted because it could be very addictive, but for times like these when he needed his boy to do what he was told, it could come very much in handy.

Peter was so dazed that he wasn't even aware of what was going on. All he knew was that there was a sudden constriction around his torso, and assumed it was the man hugging him. He still hated the man touching him, but he couldn't do much to fight it. His limbs were heavy like lead, and he could barely move in his seat as it was, so he had no choice but to let the man do as he wished. Peter only hoped it wouldn't go any further than a hug. "I did good...?" He slurred, his eyelids opening to half-mast as he looked the man in the face.

“Yes, baby. So good. I’m so proud of you.” Tony beamed at him, softly petting his hair as he pulled back on the road, driving to the motel that was just down the street. The kid was really out of it, sure, but he was still conscious. It was a step.

When they got there, Tony turned to Peter determinedly. “Baby boy,” he addressed him, “I’m going to help you walk and we’re going to go inside.” Tony got out of the car and went to the passenger side to help Peter out. It was dark and empty, and like the other motel, Tony had already checked in days ago. He helped lift the boy out of the car and planted his feet on the ground. With his arm wrapped around Tony’s shoulders, they walked to the front door and entered the motel room.

Peter could only nod, and he slumped against the man when he was hauled out of the car and his arm was draped over Mr. Stark's shoulders.

To any onlookers, it would look like someone who had drank too much being helped into the motel by a kind friend, but Peter knew it was nothing like that. Well, Peter didn't really have the mental capacity to know anything right now, what with his brain being completely scrambled on Xanax.

He flopped down onto the bed, and at the back of his mind he wondered whether Mr. Stark was going to handcuff him to the bedpost again even though he was completely lax.

Tony set the food down on the bedside table and watched Peter’s nearly unconscious figure for a moment before a thought occurred to him. “I’m not letting you sleep in that. Not again.” Tony muttered, mostly to himself, before leaving Peter for a moment to go back to his car and grab his bag. “Arms up, baby.” Tony ordered, and helped pull off his shirt.

He retrieved the oversized T-shirt from his bag and only marveled at Peter’s pale, naked torso for a second, resisting the urge to touch him, before pulling the shirt down over his head and his arms through the sleeves.

Now came the pants. Tony glanced at Peter carefully before reaching to undo the button and zipper.

Peter had no choice but to let the man pull the t-shirt up and off of his body. If he weren’t drugged out of his mind, he would have put up a real fight, thrashing for all of his worth. However the Xanax meant that Peter could do little more than mewl weakly in protest as his shirt was changed.

When it came to his trousers, however, that awoke something in Peter. “N-No... nuh uh... nu-nuh uh, not...” Peter began to protest, but it came out in slurred, incoherent babbles. One of his hands came up and tried to grip Mr. Stark’s wrist, to push him away from Peter’s crotch. “Do-Don’t touch... not th-there, nuh...” Peter mumbled, trying his best to sit up and move away from the man who was currently hunched over him.

Peter weakly trying to push Tony away was pathetic at best.

“Baby,” Tony chuckled at the pretty little whimpers elicited from the boy, “just let this happen. I’m not going to touch you yet; I promise. I’m just changing your clothes.” 

Against the boy’s protests, Tony pulled down his trousers. Peter’s hand was still pawing at his wrist, doing absolutely nothing to stop him. He had sweatpants for him, but Tony hesitated at deciding whether or not to put the new boxers on him. Finally, after a moment, he decided to get him into the new ones.

Reaching for his boxers over his legs was new territory and they both knew it. “It’s okay, Peter. Trust me.” Tony spoke as calmly as he could as he removed the boy’s boxers and helped him put on the new ones. He caught more than a glimpse of his cock and Tony fought back a groan. He could do it. He could touch him right now. Peter may not even remember.

Peter continued to whimper as his pants were pushed down his legs, and when his boxers followed he let out a single, pitiful whine. His head fell back against the mattress and his eyes shut once more.

_This is just a bad dream. This is just a bad dream. This is just a bad dream._

Nobody had ever seen Peter naked before, and it felt awful how the man was stealing each new experience from him. He didn’t want this, not with someone who was three times his age and twice his own strength. Peter felt dirty, corrupted by having the man even look at his naked body, and he hated it.

Tony held off on touching him. It wasn’t the right time. He didn’t want Peter to be drugged when he first did it. So, he gave his cock once last glance and pulled his boxers on him, and then the sweatpants.

Tony helped him under the covers and laid down with him. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You’re so lovely for me.” Tony whispered in his ear, wrapping his arms around the boy. Tony fell asleep playing with his hair.

Peter was so out of it that it helped him ignore whatever the man was saying to him. If he wasn’t drugged like this, Peter probably could’ve made the bid to escape now, but every muscle in his body was weighted down, so he had no choice but to stay. He was repulsed with how Mr. Stark seemed to drape his body over Peter’s, holding him in place in bed and playing with his hair. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do anything about it.

After a few minutes, he too fell asleep.


End file.
